I Wanna Be the Very Best
by AwkwardlyAwesome
Summary: He knew in a few short hours he would be responsible for this creature's happiness and safety; like, it would be up to him to make sure that it ate regularly and didn't drop dead of some weird Pokemon disease. But Stiles wasn't too worried about that part. He basically already did that with Scott.
1. I Wanna Be the Very Best

I am a grown ass woman in my twenties and I still play Pokemon and watch TV shows about teenaged werewolves. We all knew this was coming.

A few things to know: I'm upping the age that people get their first Pokemon to 18, because sending 10-year-olds off on adventures without parental guidance is hella stupid. Also, there's basically a personality test to see what Pokemon you get.

I might expand this universe if it's well received?

Also, this was previously published on AO3 under the name hai-mae.

X

Stiles was, to put it mildly, freaking the fuck out.

"De-stress your breasts, Stilinski," he told himself as he stared in his bathroom mirror, running a hand nervously over his head. There were smudged purple shadows under his eyes from a night spent nervously fidgeting in bed, and he looked pale- pale and terrified. He certainly didn't look old enough to finally be eighteen years old- the baby fat still lingering on his cheeks made sure of that- and he sure as hell did not look like he was ready to be a Pokemon trainer.

And yet… Well. He was about to be.

He was excited to be a Pokemon trainer, okay? Like, it was all he had ever wanted. But now that it was finally the morning that he would actually get a Pokemon he was scared out of his freaking mind.

He knew in a few short hours he would be responsible for this creature's happiness and safety; like, it would be up to him to make sure that it ate regularly and didn't drop dead of some weird Pokemon disease. But Stiles wasn't too worried about that part. He basically already did that with Scott.

He was more worried about his Test results.

The Test was relatively new thing; Pokemon researchers from all over the world had implemented it about twenty or so years ago as a way to more efficiently match trainers with their starter Pokemon. Apparently the whole "pick whatever random Pokemon I have in my office right now" route was getting a little old.

Stiles had taken the test about a month ago, along with all the other kids in town who had just turned 18. He honestly thought it seemed pretty bogus; it was just a three hour long test, with a practical portion and then a personality test, where he was asked stupid shit like "You consider yourself to be an adaptable person: True or False?" and "On a scale of 1-10, with one being a definite no and 10 being a definite yes, how likely would you be to join a criminal organization which aims to take over the entire world?"

Okay, he may have been making that last one up.

But still- Stiles wasn't sure how efficient this Pokemon matchmaking service was going to be at finding him his new BFF. He kind of wished that he could just fight all the other kids to the death over whatever cool Pokemon Dr. Deaton already had chilling in his office.

"That's exactly the reason they implemented the Test, Stiles," his father said with a put-upon voice after Stiles voiced his opinion at the breakfast table for- okay, yeah, like the millionth time that week. "The increase in people deciding to be Pokemon trainers over the past twenty years has made it impossible for everyone -"

"Yeah, yeah, this way everyone gets a fair shot, I get it," Stiles grumbled, half-heartedly poking at his scrambled eggs (which were overcooked, since it was his dad's turn to make breakfast and even at forty-six he still couldn't cook for shit). His dad smiled at him fondly, the big smile that made his eyes crinkle into half moons, and it helped, a little. Stiles could almost believe that this was any other morning where he was just eating breakfast with his dad, and the biggest thing he'd have to worry about was Scott accidentally sleeping through his alarm again and missing first period.

"You have nothing to worry about," his dad said gently before plopping some burnt toast on his plate, "Now eat up- you have a long day ahead of you."

"But what if I get something really lame?" Stiles asked nervously, "Like, what if I get a Magikarp?"

"You won't get a Magikarp," his dad said as he washed his plate in the sink, "Calm down. I've only heard of that happening once or twice. I doubt it will happen to you."

"Wait, it's actually happened before?" Stiles asked incredulously, "I was mostly joking, but- dad? Dad you can't leave this is an emergency!"

"Go talk about this with Scott!" the Sheriff yelled as he walked towards the front door, the click-clack on the tile a clear sign that his lazy Persian had finally deigned to get off the couch so she could follow him to work. "You'll be fine, Stiles- I'm sure you'll get a great Pokemon. Make sure you come home for dinner so I can meet it!"

The door slammed shut, and Stiles was left dreadfully alone with his thoughts. In a few short hours he would never be alone again, because he would have his first Pokemon- his partner. It was an extremely comforting thought, but…

"Fucking Magikarp," he grumbled, and took another bite of his father's horrible, horrible eggs.

X

"Dude, I am so pumped!" Scott said as they walked to Dr. Deaton's, a wide grin on his face. He was practically vibrating with excitement; it was like it was his birthday and Christmas and buy-one-get-one-free pizza day at the grocery store all rolled into one.

"Really, Scott?" Stiles drawled, "I couldn't tell. You don't look excited at all." Scott rolled his eyes and shoved Stiles' shoulder good-naturedly.

"This is going to be awesome, Stiles," Scott said as they opened the door to the lab, "It's everything we always dreamed of- traveling the world, challenging Gym Leaders…" His eyes turned dreamy. "Maybe we'll even meet some girls."

"Girls. Boys. I'd just like to meet someone who doesn't look at me like I'm the gum they need to scrape off of their shoe," Stiles said, "Speaking of- Hey, Lydia!"

Lydia Martin, the most flawless creature to have ever been born in the humble town of Beacon Hills, was sitting primly in one of Deaton's rickety waiting room chairs. Her hair was flowing over her shoulder in gentle waves and she was wearing one of those dresses with the minuscule skirts that Stiles simultaneously loved and hated. Her lips were red, her eyelashes impossibly long, and she would have looked absolutely perfect were it not for the look of complete disdain that appeared on her face as soon as they entered the office.

"Oh," she said, "It's just you. I thought you were Jackson."

"Of course you did," Stiles said with a sigh, plopping dramatically into the chair across from her, "I'm sure he's not far. The pungent smell of idiocy and douchey cologne is already strong in the air."

"Fuck you, nerd lord," Jackson said from behind Scott, who was still standing in the doorway. He pushed him out of the way, ignoring Scott's sound of protest, and moved across the room to sit next to Lydia and throw a possessive arm around her shoulders. It was all a very obvious play to make Stiles jealous.

And it was working, dammit.

Danny trailed in behind Jackson, looking about as nervous as Stiles felt. As if Danny had any right to be nervous- pffft. Danny was the best. Every creature on the planet loved Danny. One time, during a field trip to a Pokemon Sanctuary, a Raticate had become so enamored with him that it had given him a flower. If that wasn't some Disney Prince level shit Stiles didn't know what was.

The air in the waiting room was filled with tension and nerves. They probably would have devolved into a screaming match over something ridiculous if Deaton hadn't walked in that very moment carrying an armful of folders, a mild smile on his face.

"It's nice to see you're all on time," he greeted, "Please, come in so we can get started."

He ushered them past his office to one of the larger rooms in the lab, where there were chairs lined up in a row facing a small table. Deaton gestured for them to sit, and as they did Stiles eyed the table nervously. There were five Pokedexes lined up in a neat row, obviously intended to be given to the five of them, but… there were only four Pokeballs.

What.

"You should all be very proud of yourselves," Dr. Deaton said, and Stiles was too nervous to even roll his eyes or whisper a snarky comment to Scott. "You would not be here right now if it wasn't for all of your hard work. From this moment on, you are all officially licensed Pokemon trainers. You will be able to legally battle, challenge Gym leaders, and enter into different Pokemon-centric events. While I do hope you will take the career recommendations that the Test provided for you, your future is entirely up to you."

He walked up to the table and picked up a Pokedex and a Pokeball. "Miss Martin," he said, and only Lydia's tightly clenched fists revealed just how nervous she actually was, "You had a perfect score on your practical exam, and the personality test indicated that you greatly value intelligence and hard work. It was decided that an Abra would be the best fit for you."

Lydia stood to accept her Pokeball, Pokedex, and the folder containing her test results. She was staring at the Pokeball in her hand with an expression that was positively victorious. Stiles couldn't blame her. Abra were pretty weak and tough to train, but man, once they evolved…

And Stiles had thought Lydia was scary without a Pokemon.

"Mr. McCall," Deaton said, and Scott squeaked, "Your test revealed what everyone in this room already knew; you are loyal and have a strong moral , it is only natural your companion should exhibit the same qualities." He handed Scott his Pokeball with a smile on his face. "Take good care of your new Growlithe."

Scott looked like he was about to cry. "Thank you, sir!" he exclaimed, clutching the Pokeball to his chest. Deaton smiled indulgently.

Scott was totally the favorite.

Danny ended up getting a Cleffa, because his personality test said he was kind and also because he was a lucky bastard. Jackson got a rare Snivy, because- as Stiles always said- he was a total snake. Stiles felt his heart sink when Jackson received the last Pokeball. Here he had been worried that he was going to get a lame Pokemon. He should have been worried about not getting one at all. The others were staring at him pityingly.

Well, Jackson looked like it was his birthday, but he had always loved seeing other people's pain. Especially when it was Stiles'.

"Don't look so upset, Mr. Stilinski," Deaton said kindly, handing him his folder and his Pokedex, "You weren't forgotten."

"But… where is my Pokemon, then?" he asked nervously. Scott put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"The Pokemon you were matched with was a bit… difficult to find," Deaton said, "We almost had to find a substitute for you, but last minute an old friend of mine called to say that she had exactly what we were looking for. She was sending her son here to deliver it, but he ran into some unexpected delays this morning." Stiles sighed in relief.

"Dude, they had to special order your Pokemon!" Scott whispered, "It's probably something super awesome." Jackson looked like he had swallowed a lemon; no doubt he was expecting to have bragging rights on the rarest Pokemon in the room.

Deaton looked down at his watch. "If I'm right, my friend's son may be waiting for me in my office now. Everyone, you can go become acquainted with your new partners- Stiles, please take a seat back in the waiting room. I'll come get you shortly."

"Do you want me to wait with you?" Scott asked as they shuffled towards the exit. Stiles shook his head.

"Naw, dude, don't worry. You go have some bonding time and I'll catch up with you. I'm okay chilling by myself for a while."

"Uh, okay," Scott said as they walked into the waiting room, suddenly looking nervous, "That's, uh, a good idea. I'll see ya!" He positively bolted through the door, leaving Stiles alone in Deaton's waiting room wondering what the fuck had just happened. He turned to take a seat and-

Oh.

He wasn't exactly alone.

There was a monster sitting on the other side of the room.

The Pokemon sitting in the waiting area was terrifying, with shining red eyes that stared at him unblinkingly from across the room. It's teeth and claws looked painfully sharp, like they were made especially for ripping skinny kids like Stiles limb from limb. But it obviously belonged to somebody, and seemed well-trained, if the way it simply cocked its head at Stiles curiously when he gingerly sat down in one of the chairs (the chair farthest aware from the Pokemon- Stiles wasn't taking any chances) was any indication. Lydia had told him once that making eye contact with Pokemon could cause them to get aggressive, so he resolutely stared at the opposite wall and did everything in his power to pretend that the monstrous Pokemon didn't exist.

It was hard, though. Stiles wasn't good at sitting still, and his curiosity finally got the best of him. After a few moments of awkward silence, he decided that he probably wouldn't get maimed if he chanced a look over at the Pokemon. It was still staring at him in a non-blinking way that was definitely in creepy territory, but its head was in its paws and its ears were lowered looking like- Stiles could kick himself for using the analogy since it was giant ferocious probably man-eating beast, but- a sad puppy.

It actually looked a little like Scott. Stiles had never been able to resist Scott's sad face.

When it saw Stiles looking at it its tail started to wag, hitting the wall with loud thumps.

"Oh my God," Stiles said, "You just want attention, don't you?"

The Pokemon's tail started to wag harder.

"You won't eat me if I go over there to pet you, will you?" Stiles asked, standing up and walking over to the Pokemon slowly. There were probably a million and a half reasons why Stiles shouldn't try to touch a strange Pokemon (getting his hand eaten off was number one on that list), but the poor thing was obviously starved for some attention, so Stiles figured it was okay to risk it.

Unless, of course, it was all a clever ruse to get him closer and it was actually starved for Stiles's young, tender flesh.

It was too late to turn back, though, because the Pokemon was already sniffing his hand. Stiles froze, certain that it was going to open its mouth and bite, but the Pokemon just licked his hand gently, as if he had passed some sort of test. Then it looked at him, head tilted, before plopping down on its back gracelessly, legs in the air.

"Oh my God," Stiles said again, "Do you want a tummy rub? Is that what this is?" The Pokemon wiggled, its tail wagging frantically, so Stiles reached out to scratch at the fur on its stomach, laughing incredulously when the its eyes closed in pure bliss.

"Who's a fearsome beast?" Stiles cooed, "Awww, who's a terrifying man-eating monster? You are! Who's-"

"Mr. Stilinksi?"

Stiles yelped and fell backwards onto his butt. Dr. Deaton had opened the door at some point during the belly rub, and he looked- if Stiles could guess his micro expressions right- like he was trying not to laugh. There was a man standing next to him with a cloudy expression on his face and Stiles felt his entire body turn red because holy hell, he was the most attractive person Stiles had ever seen (including, he had to admit, Lydia, which made him feel mildly like he was committing sacrilege). He was tall and muscular and dangerous-looking, sporting a beat-up leather jacket and some truly glorious man looked from Stiles to the Pokemon sprawled on the floor next to him and raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, I can explain?" Stiles said weakly. He was surprised he was even able to formulate words because he was still pretty stunned. Dr. Deaton chuckled.

"Can you?" the unfamiliar man asked, and it was totally unfair that his voice was just as sexy as the rest of him, Jesus Christ. Stiles gaped at him for a moment before he remembered that he was still sitting on his ass in Deaton's waiting room.

Fuck.

Well, never let it be said that he didn't make a memorable first impression.

"This dude and I are totally best friends now," Stiles said as he tried to stand up with as much grace as possible (which was not a lot). "We bonded over our mutual hatred of being stranded in waiting rooms. It was a beautiful thing."

"Uh huh," the man said, his lips twitching slightly. He looked down at the Pokemon, who finally realized that belly rub time was over and was looking rather put-out. "Alpha, it's time to go."

The Pokemon- Alpha, Stiles thought- rolled onto its feet. It tilted its head at Stiles again and then, very gently, jumped up to put its front paws on Stiles's shoulders so it could lick him right across the face. Stiles spluttered, Deaton chuckled again, and the unfamiliar man just looked at Stiles incredulously, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"She likes you," he said quietly, looking oddly intense. Stiles wiped the drool off his face.

"I'm glad," he said honestly, "I hope my own Pokemon ends up liking me this much." Surprisingly, this made the stranger smile a little, and Stiles felt his heart do some seriously hardcore thumping in his chest.

Lydia who? his traitorous mind asked.

"Yeah- good luck with that one," the stranger said, but then he looked down at Alpha curiously and added, "Well. I think you'll be okay."

"Thanks, dude," Stiles said.

"It's Derek," he corrected. Stiles didn't think he would be over-exaggerating if he said there was a seriously significant look that passed between them. Stiles was about to open his mouth to say something, anything, but then Deaton broke the silence (the sexually charged silence? Was Stiles reading this entirely wrong?).

"Thank you for making the trip, Mr. Hale. Mr. Stilinski, why don't you follow me into my office?"

God, Deaton was such a cockblock.

The stranger- Derek- nodded his goodbye and then walked out the door, Alpha following at his heels. Stiles stared after them mournfully for a moment (goodbye, my almost lover, he sang in his head) before following Deaton back to his office. His palms suddenly felt clammy.

This was it.

"Your test results were interesting, Mr. Stilinski," Deaton began, and Jesus, Stiles felt like he was going to pass out from nerves. "Your practical score was almost as high as Miss Martin's, and your personality score shows that you are are extremely adaptable." He handed Stiles his Pokeball and then nodded encouragingly. "You can release her in here, if you'd like."

The Pokeball almost slipped out of his hand because of his sweaty palms, but Stiles clicked the button to expand it and then released the Pokemon onto the desk, panicking at the last minute in case it was too big to fit. Luckily, it ended up being quite small. The Pokemon sitting on Deaton's desk was (and Stiles refused to think of it as unmanly to say) adorable, with overlarge ears and silky brown fur. She looked up at Stiles with huge brown eyes and Stiles immediately fell in love.

"Holy shit," he breathed, reaching a shaking hand out to touch her ear, "I got an Eevee? This is unbelievab-OUCH HOLY SHIT!"

His Eevee, instead of nuzzling up to his hand like he was expecting, sunk her sharp little teeth into Stiles' arm. She growled, playfully, and her little tail was wagging furiously. It would have been cute if it hadn't hurt so damn bad.

"Oh, she likes you already," Deaton said, and Stiles looked at him incredulously. "Mr. Hale said that she likes to bite; he thinks its her way of showing affection. She's very young, so she'll probably grow out of it."

"I hope so," Stiles grumbled, but she had finally let go of his hand and was now letting him scratch her behind her ear so he wasn't too upset, "At least I already know she'll be good in a fight."

Deaton chuckled. "Go catch up to your friends, Mr. Stilinski," he said kindly, "I'm sure they'll be delighted to meet her."

X

"Dude!" Scott said, "She's adorable!" He was petting the Eevee gently on the head, and Stiles was a little bitter to see that she wasn't biting him. But she didn't seem too pleased at his attentions, so maybe Deaton was right- maybe biting was her way of showing she cared.

As if intent on proving his thoughts right, she turned away from Scott in a huff and bounded over to leap onto Stiles' lap, grabbing his thumb in her tiny mouth. "Can't you just cuddle like a normal Pokemon?" he complained, but she wasn't breaking the skin, so he figured it was okay.

"Maybe she's teething?" Scott suggested, running a hand down Apollo's fur. Stiles had been pretty surprised by the mythological nickname; Scott was notoriously bad at mythology. But it was fitting, he had to admit. The Growlithe was small but regal- at least he was until he flopped down on Scott's lap and wriggled around, begging for attention. "Are you gonna give her a nickname?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, a slow grin spreading across his face, "I was thinking I would call her Malia."

Scott snorted. "Wasn't Malia the name of the girl who went to preschool with us?" he asked, and Stiles laughed.

"Yeah- they had to send her to private school because she kept biting the teachers." They both looked down at the Eevee, who had moved on from Stiles' hand and was now attempting to eat his shoe. "I thought it was fitting."

"It totally is," Scott agreed. They sat for a while in companionable silence, trying to absorb everything that had happened in the past few hours.

"Everything is going to change now, isn't it?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah," he said, a smile spreading across his face, "It is."


	2. Silver and Gold

Here's the second chapter. I have these as a series of one-shots on AO3, but it's easier to put it into story form here. So yeah.

Review if ya want, I guess? Please? I love criticism and comments and questions. I promise I'm friendly.

X

Malia, as it turned out, hated her Pokeball. Stiles found this out the hard way when he tried to recall her to it her first night home and ended up with his left leg scratched to hell and a buzzing in his ears from her high-pitched yowling. He cursed- that was probably gonna leave a scar- and she immediately bolted to hide under his bed, quaking in fear.

"Shh, shhh, it's okay," Stiles said soothingly, lying on the floor and trying to reach out to her. She cowered away from his touch, big brown eyes wide and terrified. Stiles felt like an asshole.

No, he felt like Jackson. Which…well. Much, much worse.

It took half an hour and half a bag of ginger snaps to get Malia to tentatively step out from under the bed, her fluffy tail tucked between her legs. He held out another ginger snap and she took it from him warily, retreating to sit a safe distance away from him. Stiles ran a nervous hand over his buzz cut.

"You'll never have to go in there again if you don't want to," he swore. Her ears pricked up slightly. "I don't know what happened to make you hate Pokeballs, but seriously. You can stay out here with me. Okay?"

He wasn't sure if she would understand him- he knew she normally did, but he was sure if she was still too horribly shaken by her Poke-panic attack to know what he was saying- but his meaning must have translated just fine. She sighed, as if relieved, and then carefully crawled onto his lap, taking one of his fingers between her teeth in a loose hold and looking up at him with wide eyes. He smiled at her encouragingly and she bit down a little harder, her tail thumping lightly against his legs.

"Time for bed, Chewbacca," he told her fondly, pulling her into his arms. She curled up on his chest, tucking her nose into the crook of his neck. It tickled, and he woke up with a mouthful of fur and a crick in his neck, but whatever.

It was the best night's sleep he'd ever had.

X

Scott and Stiles left home on a Tuesday. Their bags were packed, their new traveling boots broken in and comfortable, and their bellies full with Mrs. McCall's delicious goodbye meal. Stiles had even generously let his dad have a slice of the cake, though he had already enlisted Mrs. McCall and all of the deputies in the Sheriff's department to keep an eye out on his eating habits while Stiles was gone.

His dad would be so pissed when he found out.

Malia and Apollo frolicked ahead of them as they set off, chasing butterflies and pouncing on each other excitedly. They made good time that first day, setting up camp at the edge of the Preserve. The woods spanned for miles and miles, and were a dark and menacing backdrop against the night sky, but Stiles managed to get their tent up after only a few mishaps and it was easy enough to get a fire going with Apollo's helpful Ember. They sat around the fire that night slurping on soup and and traveler's bread, their Pokemon sprawled out and snoring by their sides.

"Dude," Scott said, eyes wide with wonder, "I think that we're gonna be good at this."

"Scotty," Stiles said, not even trying to smother his huge grin, "I think you're right."

It was supposed to take them three days to get to Silver City. It ended up taking them a week and a half.

Stiles should have known that everything would go to shit.

"We've walked past this tree like four times in the past hour," Scott supplied unhelpfully as Stiles tried in vain to figure out where the hell they were on his map, "I remember it because Apollo peed on it."

"Thank you for that extremely useful tidbit of information, Scotty," Stiles said, faux-cheery. He flipped the map upside down, hoping that would make it more readable.

It didn't.

"Dude, we're lost. I told you we should have gone to Beacon Hills instead of Silver City," Scott grumbled. Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically.

"We've been to Beacon Hills before, Scott!" Stiles retorted, "We went there for like every field trip we ever had in elementary school. Silver City is someplace new!"

Scott took a deep, calming breath. "Look," he said, "We're both stressed and tired of eating granola bars for every meal. Why don't we head over to the river we've passed _at least _seven times today and catch some fish for lunch? We'll probably feel better about everything with a full stomach."

Stiles smiled in spite of himself. He and Scott could never stay mad at each other for long, mostly because Scott was too dang adorable and reasonable for Stiles to ever hold a grudge. Besides, they were all famished; earlier he had caught Malia eyeing up a Pidgey flying overhead with a hungry look in her eyes, like she was planning on pouncing on it midair and eating it, feathers and all.

Whoever said Eevee were adorable, cuddly creatures was extremely mistaken. Well, okay, Malia _was_ adorable and cuddly, but she was also terrifying.

Everyone left the terrifying part out.

"Spoken like a true McCall," Stiles finally said, "Let's do it. We can test out my dad's old fishing rods and then eat all our feelings."

Scott sighed, dreamily. "I love eating my feelings, dude," he said. Stiles just laughed.

X

Scott and Stiles split up when they got to the river, rationalizing that if one of them was in a bad fishing spot then the other might be a bit luckier. Stiles was hoping Scott was doing better than he was, because so far all he'd gotten was one measly little fish (which Malia had promptly snatched from him and swallowed whole, the greedy little jerk) and a whole bunch of Magikarp.

Fucking Magikarp.

"I think we're gonna have to call it a day," Stiles told Malia when the sun was starting to go down, "Hopefully Scott had better luck than we did." Malia chirped at him happily, pouncing on his foot. Stiles smirked and splashed her with some water, laughing when she hissed.

"You don't like water, huh?" he teased as she gave his ankle a vicious nip, "I guess that means you won't want to be a Vaporeon. There's only, oh, a million and a half other options for you to choose from."

He found Scott and Apollo about half a mile away, four fish already being cooked over a cheery fire. Stiles let out a whoop when he saw it and tackled Scott to the ground, kissing him dramatically on both cheeks.

"Scotty, you are the man!" Stiles said. Scott grinned up at him, victorious, and then they both groaned in pain when Malia and Apollo leaped on them because they decided they wanted to join in on the puppy pile. The four became a tangle of arms and legs and tails and laughter.

Apollo froze suddenly, hackles raised, and Stiles worried momentarily that he had accidentally squished the Growlithe's tail under his back in the fray. But the puppy Pokemon leaped away from them and barked viciously at something in the woods.

"Malia," Stiles murmured, and she immediately followed his unspoken command and stalked over to Apollo's side and bared her tiny teeth. The two Pokemon looked as fierce as they were able to- which, considering they were both adorable little fluffballs, was… not very fierce at all.

"Sorry, sorry!" a feminine voice called out, "I didn't mean to scare you!" A girl stepped out of the shadows, a sheepish smile on her face. She was extremely pretty, with wavy dark hair flowing down her back and pale, luminous skin. As she got closer, Stiles noticed a silverly little Pokemon with stubby legs lumbering behind her, staring at them curiously with huge blue eyes.

"It's, uh- yeah," Scott tried to say. He was staring at the girl as if she was an angel come down from heaven with an extra-large pepperoni pizza in one hand and a plate of double-stuffed oreos in the other. "Um… fish?"

The girl raised her eyebrows, obviously confused, and Stiles decided to take pity on his tongue-tied friend.

"Would you like to sit down and have dinner with us?" Stiles asked, Scott nodding his head energetically beside him, "That's what he was trying to say. We ran into a Pokemon who knew Confuse Ray a little while ago and it hasn't quite worn off yet." The girl laughed, and Stiles could practically hear Scott swooning next to him.

Oh boy.

"I'd love to!" she said, "My name is Allison, by the way. It's really nice to meet you." Her little Pokemon nudged her shin gently and she grinned down at it. "Oh! And this is Ace."

Scott pulled out his Pokedex, curious. "_Aron, the Iron Armor Pokemon_," the mechanical voice said helpfully, "_Aron has a body of steel. With one all-out charge, this Pok__é__mon can demolish even a heavy dump truck. The destroyed dump truck then becomes a handy meal for the Pok__é__mon._"

"Wow," Scott said, too impressed to remember his embarrassment, "You're a tough little guy, aren't you? That's awesome." Ace seemed pleased with this assessment, his eyes turning into little half moons. Scott smiled at Allison shyly. "Uh, I'm Scott and this is Stiles. And that's Apollo and Malia."

"Hello!" Allison said as she sat next to Scott, wiggling her fingers at the Pokemon. Apollo and Malia were already investigating Ace, sniffing him carefully. Apollo licked the little Pokemon on the side of the head, obviously excited to make a new friend, and Malia tried to nip him on the leg. She hissed angrily when she realized that the steel Pokemon's skin was too hard to bite down on. Ace sat through his initiation good-naturedly, watching the other two Pokemon with amusement.

Allison turned out to be one of the coolest people that Stiles had ever met. Not counting Scott, you know, because he was his BFF. Also not counting Lydia, because Stiles was still half-convinced that she was an immortal goddess who had temporarily taken on human form for some sort of strange science experiment. And also not counting the mysterious Derek Hale, who Stiles had only talked to for about three minutes. They were probably the hottest three minutes of Stiles' life, though, so… yeah.

Allison was nineteen. She liked archery, photography, and teasing Scott until he blushed an endearingly bright scarlet. She'd been homeschooled, so she hadn't taken the test to be matched with her perfect Pokemon partner; instead, her parents had given her Ace on her eighteenth birthday, because her family exclusively trained steel Pokemon. She had dimples when she smiled, which was often. She's pretty much exactly the kind of girl that Scott had always wanted to date.

Stiles is half-convinced that someone built Allison in a lab somewhere, because there is no way that Scott's dream girl could possibly exist outside the realm of his imagination. And yet… here she was.

Scott was such a lucky bastard.

"So you're from Silver City?!" Scott asked excitedly, "That's where we're going! Or, well, trying to go to. We got kinda lost."

"Terribly lost," Stiles interjects, "Horribly lost. I was resigned to never finding civilization again."

"It happens all the time," Allison said kindly, rubbing a hand down Apollo's back. He was lying next to her with his head in her lap, obviously already as smitten with her Scott was. Malia wasn't quite as trusting yet; she was a safe distance away from the newcomers, perched on Stiles' shoulder with her tail curled around the back of his neck. "I can show you how to get there in the morning, if you'd like."

"You're amazing," Scott said earnestly, and then it was Allison's turn to blush. They smiled at each other sweetly, their faces illuminated by the firelight.

_Oh, Scott,_ Stiles thought, watching his friend talk animatedly to Allison, Y_ou are in so much trouble._

_X_

Silver City was _awesome._

"Duuuuuuude," Scott breathed when the buildings came into view, gleaming brightly in the sunshine, "This is so. Freaking. Cool." Allison giggled.

"I'm glad you like it!" she chirped, linking her arms through Stiles and Scott's and marching them forward. They'd only known Allison for one night, but it already felt like she'd been their friend for years. Even Malia had warmed up to her, a bit (but only after Allison had bribed her with a brownie that she'd had in her backpack).

"I'm guessing you guys will want to stop by the Pokemon center to take a shower and rest up, right?" she asked. Scott nodded vigorously; he'd been find with peeing in the woods ("I am one with nature!" he'd screamed his first time doing his business in the bushes) but he had decidedly _not_ been okay with taking baths in the freezing cold river. He'd been convinced that some sort of evil Pokemon was waiting to drag him under to his watery doom.

Which, yeah, okay, was probably Stiles' fault. He knew a lot of campfire horror stories, okay? It would have been a shame not to tell them when they were sitting around an actual campfire.

"I need to stop home to say hello to my parents, but I'll stop by the Pokemon Center around six, okay?" Allison said, "I can show you guys around the city after you rest up."

"That sounds great, Allison," Scott said, and, grinning at each other like fools, they dragged Stiles with them to the Pokemon Center.

X

It was pretty damn heavenly to take a real shower after so many days of roughing it in the woods.

It had taken some coaxing to get Malia to stay with Scott while Stiles took his shower; she'd been all gung-ho to hop in with him. At some point he was going to have to seriously try to break her of her dependency issues, but right now it was just adorable. Stiles had never known any creature that wanted to be around him _all _the time, and… it was pretty great.

He left the bathroom feeling cleaner than he had in days. The Pokemon Center also had a washer and dryer available for traveling trainers, so his clothes were clean and warm. He was in an awesome mood when he walked out to the Center's main lounge, grinning when Malia immediately bounded over to him and curled around his legs, purring happily.

Scott raced after her, eyes wild.

"Stiles," he said, "Something amazing happened."

"Did you and Allison make out while I was gone?" Stiles asked, only half-joking. Scott flushed and shook his head, but his eyes glazed over slightly. Stiles waited for him to speak for a few moments before sighing. "You're picturing it, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Scott said dreamily, "She's really pretty." He shook himself out of his daydream and then thrust a Pokeball into Stiles' hands, grinning victoriously. "I just got my second Pokemon!"

"What?!" Stiles yelped, almost dropping the Pokeball, "Dude, did you go back into the forest without me? The only Pokemon we found in the woods were Caterpie, man. I thought you didn't want any bug Pokemon!"

"I didn't go back into the woods!" Scott said, rolling his eyes, "I was hanging out in the lounge with Malia and Apollo, right? And I met this guy, and we talked for a while, and he said he was selling some Pokemon around town and he had one left. Anyways, he ended up selling it to me for a cheaper price because it's kinda smaller and is sorta sick-looking, which really sucks, but I figure that I'd be the best person to nurse it back to health because my mom _is_ a nurse. Right?"

"Whoa, dude, slow down," Stiles said, frowning, "Why don't you show me this Pokemon so we can see what's wrong with it, okay?" He handed Scott the Pokeball back and waited while his friend aimed it at the ground.

Stiles wasn't sure what he was expecting, but… it certainly wasn't this.

"You bought a fucking Magikarp?!" Stiles hissed, watching the fish flop uselessly on the ground. Scott was right- it was smaller than most of the Magikarp he had seen, and it's scales were an odd yellowish color as opposed to the orange it was supposed to be. "Dude, they're the most useless Pokemon to ever exist. I can't believe you spent money on that."

Scott frowned at him, and then reached down to rub a gentle hand down the Magikarp's scales. It's eyes half closed in pleasure and it gurgled at Scott happily. Stiles groaned.

"Oh God," he said, "You've already bonded. There's no way you'll get your money back now."

"I don't want my money back," Scott said staunchly, "Poseidon is going to be a great part of my team, and you're practically his uncle so you need to love him too. Okay?"

Stiles grimaced, but he reached a hand out to pat Poseidon (really, Scott?) gently on his tail. "Welcome to the family, little buddy," he said grudgingly. It was worth the indignity (ugh, his scales were _slimy_) to have Scott smile at him gratefully.

The rest of the afternoon passed by uneventfully; well, there was a close call when Malia stared at Poseidon with hungry eyes, licking her lips in anticipation, but Stiles was quick to nip that in the bud ("We do not eat our friends, Malia!"). They stocked up on supplies in the Pokemart next door and video chatted with their parents; Scott held Poseidon up for his mom to see, grinning proudly when she exclaimed over his coloring.

"He's not sick, Scott, he was just born that way," she explained, "Oddly colored Pokemon are very rare. You're very lucky to have found him."

Stiles rolled his eyes. Of course Scott would luck into a rare Pokemon. _Of course. _

Magikarp were still useless, though.

X

Allison showed up promptly at six, dressed in new clothes and with Ace at her side. She showed them around the city, telling them funny stories about the people they walked by. Stiles noticed that there weren't a lot of people their age hanging around; everyone they passed was either middle-aged or very young. Allison must have been lonely. It would explain why she attached herself to them so quickly.

She took them to an awesome pizza place, where they all shared a pepperoni pizza and some delicious garlic bread. The owner even made their Pokemon some personal Poke-pizzas on the house (he gave Ace a few aluminum cans, which he munched on eagerly), which literally had Apollo and Malia eating out of his hand.

Obviously, Pokemon (like Scott) were won over through their stomachs.

"I was thinking I'd challenge the Argent gym leader tomorrow," Scott said, sneaking a hand under the table to feed Apollo a piece of pepperoni, "I probably won't win, but it will be good experience for us."

"I'll watch you, see how you do, and then think about whether we're up to challenge him or not," Stiles joked. Allison was frowning, an expression that didn't suit her. She had a face meant for smiling. "Hey, Ally, what's wrong?"

She startled at the nickname before smiling at Stiles, pleased. "Oh," she said, "Well, um, actually- the gym is closed right now."

"Seriously?" Scott groaned. Apollo whined from under the table, sensing Scott's distress. Allison shrugged delicately.

"You wouldn't have won anyways," she said, not unkindly, "You'll have a better chance against the gym in Beacon Hills."

"How do you know?" Scott asked, pouting slightly. Allison laughed.

"I suppose I forgot to tell you my last name," she said, smiling widely, "My name is Allison Argent. My family runs the gym here. And if you guys let me travel with you to Beacon Hills I will make sure you're in perfect fighting shape to challenge the gym leader there." She leaned over the table, staring at them (well, staring at Scott) intently. "What do you say?"

Scott and Stiles glanced at each other, silently communicating in the way that all best friends know how to do. In the end, though, it wasn't a question for either of them; Scott was already smitten, and Stiles thought Allison was pretty great, too (in a completely platonic way, though- Stiles has already met his dream man). Besides… people like Allison shouldn't be lonely, and she so obviously was in Silver City.

"Welcome to the team," Stiles finally said, and the combined power of Scott and Allison's smiles could rival the sun, "Can you be ready to leave by tomorrow?"


End file.
